rockin' the ages
I turned 35 this past week. I have a few recently enacted rituals, like declaring the entire weekend and sometimes week as my birthday. This time of year happily coincides with the Oscars, so I also make it part of my celebration to watch the fashion shows and as much of the awards ceremony as I can stay awake for. What is different this year is how good I feel about being 35. I haven't really wanted to deny my age ever, but it's like I'm blown away at just how cool I am with it. The once unblemished, wonderfully balanced skin of my teens and twenties is losing the battle to age and hormones, but my hair is doing things that I have wished for ever since my mom had to put curlers in my hair overnight for dance recitals. It's a massive struggle to lose weight and flab from three pregnancies, but I have gained an incredible amount of confidence in my body and in styling it. I know who I am in a way that I never did before my thirties. If I had known that this is who I would eventually become, I maybe wouldn't have been in such a rush to get things done in my twenties. I don't regret anything I've done or the paths I've taken to get me here, if only for the three, tv-induced comatose beings behind me. I'm simply reflecting upon the amount of time I've spent being insecure when I've had it in me all along. I sort of feel like Jennifer Aniston and I finally have something in common. We're aging gracefully, happier and more confident in ourselves than we've ever been. Oh, and we're both rich, too, just in different ways.